Fatal Convictions (17 page)

Read Fatal Convictions Online

Authors: Randy Singer

46

On Wednesday morning, for the third day in a row, Hassan Ibn Talib followed Taj Deegan to work. The prosecutor made it almost too easy. She drove her kids to school every morning in a Chrysler minivan, taking the same route to school and then work. She parked in the same public parking lot in approximately the same spot, as close as possible to the commonwealth’s attorney’s office. Her court appointments were a matter of public record. She never left the building for lunch. But most importantly, when she parked the van, she tossed the keys into the center console and locked the door. When she returned, she unlocked the door using the keypad on the outside.

His first step would be to obtain the access code for the keypad.

Using a telephoto lens, Hassan had watched her work the code—left, right, left, right, middle. He recorded a video of her working the keypad. She managed to keep the precise numbers hidden, but Hassan had a solution for that as well.

In the early morning hours he had paid a visit to her house and washed off the keypad with a solution that would erase all fingerprints. Now, one hour after she disappeared into the office, he checked the parking lot and made his way to her van. He quickly dusted the pad for prints and found that three of the buttons had been pushed—the 2/3 button, the 6/7 button, and the 8/9 button.

Armed with that information, he returned to his car and watched the video he had taken earlier. Deegan’s shoulder was in the way, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Based on the movements of her hand and the information he had just gained, he narrowed it down to two or three combinations. He memorized the combinations, put on a pair of plastic gloves, and walked to her van a second time. Two minutes later, he was in.

Somebody was angling toward him in the parking lot, so he sat in the driver’s seat and pretended to talk on his cell phone. After the person ambled by, he grabbed the garage door opener and returned to his car.

Later, he would gain access to Deegan’s garage, disable her alarm, and enter her house. From there, the plan was simple. If she had a spare key, he would simply make a copy. If not, he would unscrew one of the window locks, cut off the bottom of the screws, and replace the lock and screws. The window would look secure, but he would be able to break in anytime he wanted.

He would inform his superior and wait for further orders.

The American justice system was no match for the zealous disciples of Mohammed.

* * *

Alex worked from his condo until almost ten. He and Shannon had agreed to call Khalid at eleven, so Alex headed to the office so they could use the speakerphone.

When he entered the waiting area at 10:45, he was surprised to see his grandmother sitting behind the reception desk. He blinked, trying to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“Must be nice to keep banker’s hours,” she quipped. “You’re just in time for lunch.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard about Sylvia’s . . . departure, and I thought you could use a little help until you find a new assistant.”

By now, Shannon had joined them. “Did you know about this?” Alex asked.

“I found out when I got to work,” Shannon said. “Of course, that was several hours ago.”

Alex wasn’t an emotional person, but for some reason, he had to blink back tears. “Thanks,” he said to his grandmother.

Ramona pointed to the sign on the wall, listing the firm’s hourly rate. She had crossed out $200 and listed the starting rate at $250. The sign now said that the firm charged $400 “if you want to advise us on how to do our job.”

“From what I’ve heard about the imam’s daughter, you’re going to earn every penny,” Ramona said.

Alex smirked. “I see you’ve been talking to Shannon.”

“She told me about your meeting yesterday,” Ramona said. “And if you want my opinion, Mr. Mobassar obviously has no idea what he’s doing.”

“Can we talk before we call him?” Shannon asked. From the look in her eyes, Alex knew what was coming. She probably couldn’t sleep last night. She would want to take the criminal case and pass on the civil one. How could they let an innocent man go to jail?

Before she even made her argument, Alex had calibrated his response. He would put up token resistance, only because he wanted to be able to say “I told you so” if the case went south. In truth, Alex was ready to take the criminal case too.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Alex and Shannon broke the news. Khalid should get someone else to handle Ghaniyah’s case. The firm would need a retainer of $50,000 for his. The billing rate was $200 an hour.
Unless Nara stays involved,
Alex wanted to say. But this was no time for levity.

There was silence on the other end for a few moments. “I’m not surprised you made that decision,” Khalid eventually said. “I told Nara you would . . . and I’m glad you didn’t make a liar out of me.”

“So am I,” said Alex.

Khalid cleared his throat. “Can I share a little secret with you?”

Shannon gave Alex a look. “Of course,” Alex said tentatively.

“There were some people in my community—even some in my own family—who questioned whether you were truly committed to my case. They thought that perhaps you only wanted a lucrative settlement in Ghaniyah’s case and would then drop mine. I decided to take a Solomonic approach to the issue.”

Alex immediately picked up on the reference to King Solomon. To determine which of two women was the real mother of a baby, Solomon threatened to split the child in two. He knew that the actual mother would give away the baby before she would allow the child to be harmed.

“By demonstrating your willingness to forgo Ghaniyah’s case, you’ve proven that you were not just in this for the money,” Khalid concluded.

“Are you saying you don’t really see a conflict with our firm handling both cases?” Alex asked.

“I just need a firm committed to proving my innocence.”

At that moment, Alex wasn’t quite sure how to respond. On the one hand, he wanted to reach through the phone and strangle his client. On the other, he was relieved that they could handle Ghaniyah’s case as well. But Alex knew one thing for sure: he would keep a skeptical eye on Nara Mobassar. Everything seemed to have turned chaotic from the moment she came on the scene.

He thought maybe he should confront Khalid about lying to his lawyers but decided to let it go. For now, there was nothing else that needed to be said. It was time for Madison and Associates to get to work.

47

On Thursday morning, Alex received a frantic call from Khalid.

“They’ve got a search warrant for the mosque,” his client said. Alex could hear loud voices in the background. “They’ve already taken my work computer.”

Alex pictured the cops ransacking the mosque, emptying out Khalid’s drawers and filing cabinets, creating the same mess they had at the imam’s house. “Get the officer in charge and give him your phone,” Alex said.

“It’s Detective Brown,” Khalid said.

A few minutes later, Khalid was back on the line. “She said she can’t speak to you now.”

“Sit tight and don’t touch anything. I’m coming over.”

Before he left his office, Alex told his grandmother to call the local television stations. Perhaps Alex could gain a little sympathy for his client.

* * *

Alex stood next to Khalid Mobassar on the steps of the Islamic Learning Center and faced the two camera crews who had bothered to show up. The wind was blowing hard, and a slight drizzle had started. But Alex ignored the conditions.

“If separation of church and state means anything, it means the police cannot storm into your church or mosque and confiscate your computers and financial records. Yet that’s exactly what they did here. If this had happened at a Baptist church, the moral outrage would be deafening. Why should it be any different at a Muslim place of worship?”

Alex paused and reminded himself to keep it short. Sound bites, not lectures. “I’ll be filing a motion to suppress any evidence the police might try to use from this unconstitutional raid. The Free Exercise of Religion clause is no respecter of faiths.”

He turned toward his client. “I’m going to ask Mr. Mobassar to show you the inside of the mosque and the complete lack of respect shown by the police officers who conducted the search.”

Later, Alex’s little press conference would be broadcast around the world. The most disturbing footage included video of Khalid’s office, where the Qur’an had been tossed on the floor.

The Muslim community reacted with outrage, calling on the federal government to intervene. Legal experts accused Alex of playing “the Qur’an card.” They expressed concern about security at Khalid’s trial.

Harry Dent wasted no time getting Alex on the phone. The head deacon got right to the point. “I can’t believe you’re trying to get this guy off on a technicality. My phone’s been ringing off the hook all day. If you’re going to stay on this case, it’s time for you to step down as our pastor.”

Alex had been getting kicked around all day by complete strangers. He didn’t need his own deacons piling on.

“The Constitution is hardly a technicality,” Alex said, his tone every bit as strident as Dent’s. “As for stepping down, that won’t happen unless the congregation votes me out.”

48

Khalid and Nara came to the office on Friday morning so that everybody could ride together to the preliminary hearing. Alex hadn’t slept much the night before. Even Nara, dressed conservatively in a blue skirt and white blouse, looked tired. Khalid wore a gray business suit that looked out of place on a man with a long, straggly beard and short black hair befitting a Muslim cleric.

Alex reminded Khalid and his daughter not to expect a strenuous defense
at this stage
. The prelim was a chance to discover the government’s case, nothing more. Alex could tell by Nara’s pursed lips and body language that she didn’t like the plan. To her credit, she didn’t object. Shannon, who would be handling the majority of witnesses, looked especially tired and stressed.

Only Khalid Mobassar seemed relaxed, under control, and preternaturally calm.

* * *

Alex knew that Judge McElroy had received so much flak for allowing Khalid Mobassar out on bond that he would bend over backward to look tough at the preliminary hearing. Alex therefore wasn’t surprised when McElroy gaveled the proceedings to order and proceeded to lecture the entire courtroom about proper decorum, promising to throw any violators in jail. The tension in the hall was off the charts.

After his lecture, McElroy turned to Taj Deegan. “Call your first witness.”

As Taj stood and announced that Dr. Marnya Davidson would be her first witness, Alex thought about why Taj was the perfect prosecutor for this case. She was a minority and would be less vulnerable to the claim of racial profiling. A woman, she could bring a fair amount of righteous indignation on behalf of the victims. She was totally unpretentious—even today she had dressed in a loose-fitting cotton dress with a gray vest—just the right balance of professionalism and common touch. Her voice was deep and melodic. She had a reputation for being as tough as nails.

Her first witness was equally battle tested. Dr. Marnya Davidson was a crusty old medical examiner from Virginia Beach who had testified in more than a thousand cases. She was legendary for her gruesome and colorful descriptions of corpses. When defense attorneys tried to cross-examine her, she turned on the sarcasm and gave them an incredulous look over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses. Before long, her dry wit would have the jury snickering at the lawyers.

Under questioning from Taj Deegan, the medical examiner provided all the gory details about the beheading of Ja’dah Mahdi and the asphyxiation of Martin Burns. She described the severing of the various arteries in Ja’dah’s neck and the amount of blood that would have gushed out “like water from a garden hose.” Based on the weight of the lungs and the fluid buildup, she also described the slow pain Burns would have endured as he struggled for breath over an extended period of time. When Davidson finished, Alex had no questions.

Deegan’s next witness was a man named Christopher Long, an FBI special agent who worked in the terrorist surveillance unit. He had a buttoned-down appearance accentuated by black plastic glasses and a solid jaw that made him look determined. He could have passed for Clark Kent. Long gave an overview of the Patriot Act surveillance program, including the software used to filter calls and text messages and to flag calls of special concern. Because of manpower shortages, the FBI and DOJ couldn’t review
every
call, only those from certain individuals or those calls that contained notable keywords or phrases. At the time of the murder of Ja’dah Mahdi, the word
honor
was not a phrase that triggered follow-up. That had recently changed.

Though none of Mr. Mobassar’s calls or texts had been flagged at the time, the software archived each call and text so it could be accessed later. Agent Long testified that he had personally reviewed every phone call and text message sent or received by Khalid Mobassar in the month prior to the deaths of Ja’dah Mahdi and Martin Burns.

At this point, Alex lodged an objection to any evidence garnered from phone taps under the Patriot Act. “We believe the Patriot Act, as applied to Mr. Mobassar, is an unconstitutional violation of the Fourth and Fourteenth Amendments,” Alex explained. “If the charges against my client are certified today, we’ll be filing a motion to suppress.”

McElroy nodded his head and overruled the objection. He knew that Alex was just preserving the record. The motion to suppress would be taken up by a circuit court judge.

After laying the proper foundation, Taj Deegan introduced the text messages into evidence. She then had Agent Long read them out loud.

“‘Ja’dah Fatima Mahdi has converted to the Christian faith. She has defiled herself by consorting with an American man, disgraced her family, and dishonored Allah. She must be given only one opportunity to repent and return to the faith. If she refuses, the honor of her family must be restored.’”

The second message, Long explained, had an attached photograph of Ja’dah Mahdi and Martin Burns. “The text itself reads: ‘If you attend Beach Bible Church on Saturday night, you will find her there. May Allah guide you.’”

“What were the dates and times of the text messages?” Deegan asked.

“The first was received at 2:03 p.m. on Wednesday, June 2,” Long replied. “The second message came approximately two minutes later.”

“Dr. Davidson determined that the death of Ja’dah Mahdi occurred on Saturday night, June 12, at approximately 10 p.m.,” Deegan said. “Were there any text messages received by Mr. Mobassar’s phone shortly after that time?”

“Yes. There was a one-word message from another cell phone sent approximately two and a half hours after the death of Ja’dah Mahdi.”

“And what did that message say?”

“‘Finished.’”

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